Absolute Resolutions
by Roseau76
Summary: Set early season 4. Sam and Andy have come to some conclusions about their relationship...
1. Chapter 1

**AN-So this is my take on the whole Andy leaving Sam to go undercover fiasco. There will be a fair amount of angst in this story, because quite frankly I just can't see these two falling into each others arms so easily. This will probably be about 3-4 chapters which I hope to update fairly quickly as this story seems to be writing itself!**

**- Adult themes are discussed, but nothing too shocking.**

**- For all those wondering about Loose Lips, the next chapter will be uploaded soon.**

**Disclaimer: RB isn't mine.**

* * *

_**Ab·so·lute**_

_**[Ab-suh-loot]**_

_**-positive; certain: absolute in opinion; absolute evidence.**_

_**-something that is not dependent upon external conditions for existence or for its specific nature, size, etc. (opposed to relative).**_

* * *

**Absolute Resolutions: Chapter 1.**

Three months after Andy went undercover, Sam moved from his small rented apartment. He secured a twenty year mortgage and moved into a three bedroom house nearer to the city. Closer to work, closer to the gym, closer to…well, everything which was important to him. Interestingly it was further away from Andy's apartment.

He'd taken stock of his life after she had gone and was determined to be a new and improved Sam who relied on hard facts rather than feelings to determine the direction his life was taking.

Fact: Pouring your heart out does not get you the girl of your dreams.

Fact: The only person you can rely on in life is yourself.

* * *

"98, 99, 100…" Sam groaned and shifted uncomfortably on the hard wood floor.

Oliver awoke almost instantly after hearing noises in his hallway. Realising that it was Sam's voice, he held his breath and tried to listen to what Sam was saying. Oliver had to concentrate, but he heard it loud and clear.

Sam was counting.

Sitting up, Oliver climbed out of bed and tip-toed to the source of the noise. Feeling her husband shift next to her, Zoe opened her eyes too but did not move.

Pulling open the bedroom door as quietly as he could, Oliver peered outside to see Sam lying on the floor doing abdominal crunches.

"120,121,122..." Sam winced obliviously. He was definitely starting to feel the burn and would soon forget about her when the pain over rid his thoughts. Her sparkly brown eyes, her laugh... God how he missed her laugh. Sam shook his head dismissively as he clenched his jaw and used his stomach muscles to raise himself up from the floor once again.

Sometimes he would sleep peacefully, but more often than he would care to admit his sleep became restless. Tonight was one of those nights. His mind would keep replaying the day she went undercover and left him unaware and alone at the Penny. Sam had realised that letting Andy go was the worst and best possible thing to happen to him. The small voice in his head laughed a little manically then.

_'You didn't let her go, she left! You poured out your heart to her, promised her a fucking dog and she still left without even saying goodbye.'_

It really hurt. It still did.

"250, 251,252..." he continued through gritted teeth. The pain was excruciating; just exactly what he was looking for.

_Bliss... Utopia._

The pain had finally dulled out his thoughts.

...

"How long has he been doing that?" Zoe asked her husband as she nestled closer to peer through the small crack in the door.

"Beats me," Oliver said, dragging his hand wearily over his face. "I think it helps to distract him I suppose... " he shrugged, trying to hide his concern.

"It's 4:30am. You do realise that, right?" Zoe shook her head worryingly. "He was quiet over dinner too," she added.

"I'll talk to him in the morning," Oliver whispered, closing the door softly.

...

Sam stifled a yawn as he poured himself a cup of herbal tea. He grimaced as he took a gulp, not particularly enjoying the bitter taste but could feel the benefits. Zoe always drank the stuff and Andy always swore by it after a yoga session, something about antioxidants.

Sam stretched stiffly and stared at his biceps. He'd managed to build up some more muscle over the last few months and his body was benefiting from his intense daily workouts. Cardiovascular and strength training; he did it all but when he wanted to relax, or just work through a problem he would take a long run. He'd always found that it helped to just let his feet pound the ground heading in no particular direction. It made it easier to figure things out about whatever the problem of the moment happened to be.

He ran almost every day. He almost thought about the same thing everyday too.

'_Same thing or same person?'_

His eyes drifted to the calendar on his wall. Five months. It had been five months since he'd sat waiting in a bar and she didn't show. He'd spent the first few days feeling sorry for himself and drank far too much alcohol to numb the pain but now he was better. He stopped being so angry and was in total control. He was studying for his detective exams, trained regularly and had regained his appetite. Oliver managed to convince him to come over once a week for a meal, and at times he would sleep over. He fought against it for a while, but he loved Oliver's family as if they were his own.

Sam picked up his cup and walked back to the kitchen table. He sat and took another sip, and flexed his stiff shoulder joints teasing out a knot undoubtedly from the one hundred push ups he did after the five hundred abdominal crunches. He was toying with the idea of a long run before going to work when he was ambushed by Oliver's youngest daughter who climbed into his lap and snuggled sleepily into his chest.

"Breakfast, Uncle Sam," she yawned. "Pop Tarts."

"Sure sweetie," he said softly.

Sam kissed her head as he relaxed into her embrace and the sounds of the Shaw household wakening.

He'd take a run later.

* * *

It was the end of the shift before Oliver got a chance to corner Sam. As Sam gathered his things together, Oliver leaned against his locker. "Fancy a quick drink at the Penny? I'm paying" he added.

Sam turned his head to look at his friend, wondering if he was teasing, but he seemed genuine. "And you are buying?" Sam clarified.

An amused smile crept onto Oliver's face. "I'll buy Sammy."

"Then you're on," Sam laughed, slapping him on the back.

...

Oliver opted for a booth rather than a stool at the bar, and Sam did not argue. After their drink orders were place on their table, Oliver watched his friend watch the waitress walk away and then turn his attention to the room in general.

"So how ya been Sammy? We don't get to talk much."

"Fine man, but I have dinner at your place every week since..." he waved his hand.

"Since McNally left," Oliver finished.

Sam remained silent.

Oliver nodded his head slowly, accepting his explanation. Like everything else recently, Sam's answers were clear and carefully thought out.

His friend had changed over the last several months and although not necessarily for the worse, Oliver couldn't help think that something was off. Sam was definitely more focused since McNally's departure, but he wondered how Sam would react when she returned. He missed her bubbly personality, so he could only imagine how Sam felt.

"You sure you don't want anything stronger?" Oliver asked watching Sam nurse a bottle of light beer.

"Nah, I'm good," he smiled watching the waitress once more as she cleared glasses from the bar.

She threw him a smile and turned away. His gaze lingered on her for a few more seconds before taking another sip of beer thoughtfully.

_'You need to forget about Andy, You need more sleep, but most of all you really need to get laid!' his mind scolded._

He really would like to get laid.

Sam asked the waitress for her number, which was surprisingly easier than he anticipated. She wrote it on the back on a beer mat and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

Fact: Having sex and making love were two entirely different things.

...

Five months and three days later since Andy's departure, Sam started 'hanging out' with the waitress from the Penny. He had fallen into a regular routine with 'Tanya' and they enjoyed each others company. On his days off they watched movies, ate take-out and had lots of sex. Things were simple. No expectations, sanctioned post coital hugging or romantic whisperings. They cared about one another as friends but that's where the buck stopped as far as Sam was concerned. Love? Been there, done that...

Suddenly, Tanya wanted commitment and for Sam to talk about his feelings. Did he think they had a future? Would he like to get married some day? Did he have feelings for her?

Fact: Despite what they say, you need more than love to make a relationship work. You need to want it to work.

Sam tried to let Tanya down as gently as possible. She said she understood as they had a drink one evening. She asked if there was someone else. Sam said that there wasn't, and that he simply didn't want a serious relationship.

'_Liar!'_

Things were simple again.

* * *

Luke pulled up outside Andy's condo.

"Thanks for the ride," she said.

"Everything's okay, right?" Luke said but she could see in his eyes exactly what he was thinking.

"We're good, Luke. Thanks again."

He nodded once and she unfastened her seat belt.

"Luke..." She said softly.

He turned to face her. He looked tired with hair in desperate need of being cut. The whole operation was hard on all of them.

She smiled then. "I really appreciate you giving me the chance to do this undercover stint. I had a lot to prove."

"How about dinner tomorrow night?" he joked, but Andy couldn't manage even a half decent response for that one as she slipped out of his car. That ship had definitely sailed.

"Night Luke,"

"Night Andy," he said before pulling away from the kerb and driving into the night.

…

Andy desperately wanted to see Sam. Desperately.

She had called him from a pay phone at a gas station, as Luke was filling up and Nick was in the washroom. She left a message that she was back and that she wanted to see him.

As Andy wandered back into her apartment she contemplated her course of action. She couldn't just show up at his door and expect him to forgive her for leaving without telling him. She would wait a while longer, let him listen to her message and then go to his apartment and apologise for everything. Her only hope was that he'd be able to forgive her, and was willing to try again. Charging her cell phone, Andy ran a hot bubble bath as she sat eating dry cereal on the edge of the tub trying to think what she would say when she saw Sam.

After having a bath, changing her bed sheets and doing laundry she had run out of things to do. Unable to wait any longer she grabbed her phone and went looking for Sam. She knew he was not at work; she'd already rung there looking for him.

...

Andy banged her fist against his door, determined to tell him how she really felt. She loved him, she was sorry; she didn't want a dog...maybe a kitten which they could still call Boo.

She continued to knock loudly and picked up its momentum when she heard footsteps behind the door. When the door opened she was greeted by a small European man who spoke very little English. Through sign language and gesticulation she managed to decipher that Sam had left.

"He's gone?" She asked shocked.

"Yes gone," the man nodded.

Her face must have been a picture, as the man patted her shoulder sympathetically and gave her a tissue when she started to cry. She didn't even notice it had started to rain.

* * *

After a tearful phone call to Traci, who managed to speak to Noelle, who unbeknown to either had consulted Oliver, Andy finally had Sam's new address. She clutched the back of a receipt where she had managed to scribble his address. So many emotions were running through her.

Is he in trouble? Why did he move? Is he living with someone else?

That last thought caused the bile to rise in her throat.

...

A little after 10:00pm that evening, a soft knock sounded at Sam's door. He was sitting on the settee, watching the news and eating cold leftover noodles. Setting it down on the coffee table, he walked over to see who was there.

Checking through the blinds, he immediately recognised her tall frame and hurriedly thrown together messy ponytail.

She'd finally come back, but he was prepared. He had been preparing for this day the last eight months.

Sam cautiously opened the door a few inches, not sure yet if he was ready to talk yet. He'd spent the majority of his afternoon training and now did not seem like the best time to have a discussion about their feelings.

"Hey," he said simply, pulling the door open the rest of the way. His voice had a definite edge to it. "What are you doing here?"

She blinked away a few stubborn tears. "I wanted..." she started, but stopped short. Pausing for a moment to collect her thoughts, she took a deep breath. "You moved."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, I know."

She looked down at the floor, embarrassed. "I…Look; I don't know what to say to make this right. I screwed up, Sam and I know it."

Sam sighed deeply, and stared at something in the distance. He cleared his throat.

Fact: You can't help who you love, but you can help what you do about it.

"McNally…Andy…w-we can't keeping doing this to one another," he said softly. He willed himself to keep going.

'_You have to say this. You know it makes sense.'  
_

"I know we can't. I'm sorry I left, I really am."

"I was too. But it's okay that things didn't work out between us. We just need to do our own thing now…"

"What do you mean do our own thing?"

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Andy, it's late, and the weather doesn't look like it's going to let up anytime soon. You should go home. Rest."

He closed the door firmly, as Andy stood standing outside in the rain, speechless.

...

**To be continued…**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN- Thank-you for all the reviews and alerts, I am so glad you are enjoying it! **

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_**Rel·a·tive**_

_**[Rel-uh-tiv]**_

_**-existing or having its specific nature only by relation to something else; not absolute or independent: Happiness is relative.**_

_**-something dependent upon external conditions for its specific nature, size, etc. (opposed to absolute).**_

* * *

**Absolute Resolutions: Chapter 2.**

Andy heaved a shaky sigh and leaned her head into the palm of her hand. Trying to comprehend what had just occurred, she massaged her forehead oblivious to the rain that was falling. She closed her eyes and let herself pause for a moment to think.

She dialled Sam's cell phone number, brought the phone to her ear and listened to it ring until it went to his answer phone. She swore silently to herself and ended the call without leaving a message. Andy thought about knocking his door again, but quickly changed her mind.

How could she have handled things so wrong?

Sam's behaviour was cool and detached; nothing like the man she left behind several months ago. Had he changed that much in the time she'd been away? She shook her head and began to walk away willing herself not to cry. She needed to go home, get dry and think some more.

This couldn't be it for them she thought miserably; unable to ignore the stab of despair that came with those thoughts.

...

Sam stood with his back pressed against the cool metal of the fridge door. He hadn't felt this off balance emotionally in months. A few minutes in the presence of Andy and he suddenly felt as if he was teetering on the edge of a precipice. He was honest enough with himself to admit that all he really wanted to do was talk things over with her, but he couldn't. He had vowed to focus on bettering himself and the best way of achieving that was to remain single and unattached. But, the feelings that coursed through his body at just simply seeing her frightened him, and he clenched his fists tight as he tried to compose himself.

The phone rang, and as he saw Andy's name on his caller display, something tightened in his chest.

Fact: You can't change your past, but you can change your future.

He doesn't answer, and lets her call go to the answer phone. He grabbed his skipping rope instead.

...

As the rope swished in the air and beat against the wooden floor he jumped.

"1, 2, 3, 4," he started to count in quick succession.

God, she looked great… She'd changed her hair too... "23, 24, 25..."

Sam continued that way for another twenty minutes, but as hard as he tried to re-direct his energy, the anxiety would not leave his body. He decided to go for a run instead as there was a lot to think about. So he changed into his running shoes, and headed out in whatever direction his feet took him.

...

The rain felt good against his hot, sweaty skin, and he'd stayed out in it longer simply because it felt as if he were being cleansed. Only a few minutes away from his home, Sam slowed his pace down to a walk. He felt much calmer but more importantly focused.

Fact: The key to any successful idea, is sticking to the plan.

Things would be fine, he told himself with certainty. He knew Andy would be off from work at least for a few days having just returned from undercover, and then there was the departmental shrink. No one was allowed to return without seeing her at least once and more than that if deemed necessary. Maybe that would buy him a week to get used to the idea of her return, so that the next time he saw her things would be simpler and less fraught.

* * *

Six days later the detectives catch a case. They're called to a set of abandoned buildings in a less affluent part of town. A reported shooting between rival gangs, with one fatality and another barely alive young male in the back of an ambulance on his way to St Michael's. Sam and Traci walked towards the crime scene, sectioned off with yellow police tape and guarded by several uniformed officers. Andy and another officer were taping off a different section when he saw her. Sam tried to remain professional, nodding once in acknowledgement as he passed by.

Sam did the preliminaries with Traci, and as he was still technically in training he followed her lead. They walked around the immediate area with a comfortable camaraderie, talking softly to one another and pointing out things of interest. Sam must have said something funny as Traci laughed softly and replied, causing him to smile in return.

Andy ignored the warm heat spreading through her stomach as she watched Sam closely. He looked good, Andy thought. Really good. He was bigger somehow, more built, strong, and definitely sexier. He was wearing a brown leather jacket, a black turtle neck jumper, dark smart trousers and dark brown boots. It was not his usual t-shirt and jeans fanfare but it suited him.

He bent low to examine a few stray bullet casings on the floor, signalling to the CSU to bag it up as evidence whilst Traci wrote in her note pad. It was cold and Andy shivered without realising, before sneezing twice. Sam looked up at her, frowned, and then looked away.

"You okay Officer McNally?" he asked casually still facing away from her.

Andy nodded and sneezed again, too mesmerised to totally register what he was saying. She grabbed a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose loudly.

Traci answered instead. "Andy's been fighting bad guys for months and her first week back in uniform, she gets a cold!"

"It's no big deal, I just got caught in the rain," Andy shrugged sneezing once more.

Sam felt his spine stiffen at her words, but continued to examine the crime scene.

...

"Right," Traci clapped her hands together. "There are two possible exits from this area. That side road on the left and that alleyway on the right. Let's each take one and scope the area."

Sam rose and looked at Traci. "You wanna take the side road and I'll take the alleyway?"

Traci nodded in agreement.

"One of the other officers will come with me, and Andy will go with you Swarek," she added. "Two pairs of eyes are better than one, right?"

Something subtle passed between Sam and Traci that would go unnoticed by most. But this was her best friend and boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. Whose mannerisms and idiosyncrasies she knew well. She would have to talk to Traci about that, when they were alone with no interruptions.

Both Sam and Andy looked at one other a little uneasily.

_'No problem, right? Nothing you haven't done a million times before. Don't forget, you were partnered together a lot in the past,' the small voice in his head announced._

Sam nodded confidently. "Let's go McNally."

* * *

They both walked in silence down the narrow, rubbish littered alleyway that smelt of stale urine.

"It's a good thing my sense of smell isn't that great right now," Andy quipped, as she wrinkled her nose at the stench.

Sam didn't answer and instead concentrated on the surrounding area.

"Sam...about the other night..." she tried.

"We need to see if we can find any evidence," he said firmly, quickening his pace, and creating a much needed distance.

"Ok," Andy whispered sadly and began to search as well, hurrying to keep close.

...

There was a loud rustling noise, and then a crash as an empty Whiskey bottle fell onto the ground and smashed, causing them to jump. They both moved quickly, almost falling over in the process.

Sam instinctively grabbed Andy, backing them against the wall hard. They were both silent, yet breathing heavy; ears alert for any more sounds. Sam took out his gun from its holster, removing the safety catch; Andy's hand was poised on her own gun. No one spoke as they continue to listen. A short while later, they heard the noise again, and Sam's grip on her arm tightened.

They did the thing they used to do so well together when they were both walking the beat. Silently communicating. They looked at one another and with a few nods; an agreement had been made to approach the noise with their weapons ready to fire.

The noise was louder that time and as they prepared to confront its source, a stray dog ran past; its jaw locked around a piece of chicken it had found in an empty dumpster.

They both sighed in relief and Sam's hold slackened. Andy smiled nervously then, and Sam's face startled in realisation at their close proximity. However, neither of them moved.

Sam's eyes were intense and he would not stop looking at her. Really looking at her. Andy almost stopped breathing as his eyes roamed over her face as if he were looking at her for the first time.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

Andy nodded and tentatively reached up with her right hand to stroke the side of his face.

"I'm fine."

Sam eyes fluttered shut and leaned into her touch. Andy didn't dare speak, move or pull her hand away. Something was happening. A moment; and she did not want to break the magic spell that they were under.

Andy fought the urge to slip her hand into his hair, down the neck of his jumper and caress the hard muscles she found there.

She hesitated, and then moved closer pressing her body against his.

Andy tried to speak, to think of something that would make the moment as intense as it felt. As she opened her mouth to comment, her radio crackled to life. She responded, never once breaking their gaze.

But it was too late. The moment was gone.

Sam stepped back, and Andy immediately missed the warmth from his body.

"We should go back," he suddenly announced, perhaps a little too loudly. "There's nothing here."

They walked back to the others in silence, both trying to comprehend what had just happened between them.

Andy didn't know what they were to each other now, but she knew damn well that they still had a very powerful connection. Sam must have felt it too.

* * *

"I don't understand." It's the fifth time Andy had said it. For the fifth time Oliver sighed and stared down at his half eaten sandwich.

He twiddled with the heating in the cruiser, causing a warm blast of air to flow around the car.

"What's to understand, McNally? Sam decided to take some leave."

"But I don't understand...yesterday..." She stopped speaking, dusting an invisible piece of lint from her vest, as she tried to hide the agitation in her voice.

She tried a different approach. "For how long?"

Oliver shrugged. "A couple of weeks. Maybe more."

"But I just saw him yesterday," Andy fidgeted.

Oliver chewed thoughtfully. The car suddenly seemed suffocating. He didn't want to get involved, but he could read between the lines. Something happened with McNally, and Sam was spooked enough by it to take time off.

"Has something happened to him?" she asked.

"McNally, we are supposed to be looking for speeding vehicles. Try focusing on that instead," Oliver said.

"Oliver… please!"

Oliver wondered how he was supposed to respond to that. He cared about both of them. Andy was like a daughter and Sam like the brother he never had, and ultimately his loyalties lay with him.

"I don't know any more than you, Andy. Not really."

Andy glared at Oliver, with a look that told him that she knew he was keeping stuff from her, but also that she wasn't going to force him to talk.

"Look…" Oliver sighed. "Sam left me a message last night, saying he needed some time off. Maybe the break will do him some good, he hasn't been sleeping well. The few times he's slept at my house he gets restless."

Andy, not surprisingly, seemed puzzled. "Restless? How?"

Oliver's took another bite of his sandwich. "He just needs to burn some energy before he can sleep, that's all."

They sat in the car in silence, watching the traffic go by. Oliver was hoping that Andy would drop the subject now, but she did not.

"It's me isn't it? He's taking time off because of me."

He could tell she was going to cry, and looked away out of the window wondering how much he should say.

"I don't know Andy, but I'll be honest when I say that you coming back has unsettled him."

"I know he's mad at me, Oliver and I don't want to involve you in our mess..."

"But I am involved," Oliver said irritably. "I've been involved since you went undercover. I know he's made mistakes too and I understood why you went, but you should have told him you were leaving."

She finally began to cry then, months of loneliness and regrets spilling to the surface.

"I'm sorry," Oliver said quietly. He doesn't know why exactly.

"I love him Oliver."

"I know you do," he said tenderly, pulling her into a hug.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN- Thanking you again for the reviews! Sorry for the delay. Enjoy...**

* * *

_**res·o·lu·tion**_

_**[rez-uh-loo-shuh n]**_

_**-the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc.**_

_**-a solution, accommodation, or settling of a problem, controversy, etc.**_

* * *

**Absolute Resolutions: Chapter 3**

Andy took a long swallow of wine from her glass and tried not to notice the waitress as she served at the bar. As hard as she tried not to, Andy found herself staring, trying to imagine the appeal through the gentle buzz of alcohol in her system.

"Andy," Traci whispered, leaning her head closer to her friend so that her voice would carry over the music and noise of the busy bar.

Andy did not answer.

"Andy," Traci said again.

Andy realised from the tone that Traci had probably called her name more than once. She ran a hand through her hair and sat up straight.

"Sorry, Trace. What were you saying?"

"Are you done staring at her?" Traci teased.

"What? Yes. No...no I'm not staring!"

"Yeah right!" Traci snorted and topped up Andy's glass.

"Okay, well maybe just a little..." Andy admitted sheepishly. "I can't help it."

Taking another mouthful of wine, Andy continued her perusal of the tall red head as she wiped a damp cloth on the bar, and laughed with one of the customers.

"Do you think she's pretty?" Andy sighed.

"She looks like a frog," Traci said.

"A red headed frog," Andy added.

They both burst into school-girl like fits of laughter, already tipsy and a third of the way through their second bottle of Chardonnay.

Andy closed her eyes, and felt a little better. They sat in a comfortable silence, eating peanuts and staring at 'Tanya' as she laughed loudly with another waitress. When Andy didn't say anything for a few minutes, Traci asked, "So how's things?"

"Fine," Andy replied a little too enthusiastically.

Traci nodded. One of the reasons Andy was able to confide in Traci, was that she always seemed to know when to speak and when to keep quiet.

Traci felt for her friend, especially after her ill-though out idea of putting her and Sam together at the crime scene a few days earlier. She had tried to apologise, but Andy hated sympathy and dismissed the conversation entirely.

Andy continued to smile and goof around, and although her act wasn't fooling anyone, Traci simply went along with it.

"So how's things working with Sam?" Andy asked after a short while. "Is he a terrible student? He always expects the best, It was hard being his rookie."

"Like I could forget!" Traci commented. "Traci, Swarek's picking on me again," she whined as she tried her best to impersonate Andy.

Andy rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Yeah, well..." she mumbled.

"It's been okay so far. To be honest, he knows more than me," Traci shrugged, sipping her wine thoughtfully.

"Come on Traci...just tell me something. I just want to know how he's been. I feel like I don't really know him any more, or what's going on in his life."

Traci considered the question, but was not quite sure what to say. She thought about Sam, who was a great cop, dedicated and above all focused. But Traci realised early on that she had to pay attention to catch his moods, which were interchangeable especially in the beginning when Andy had gone undercover. But she didn't think Andy would benefit from knowing that.

In the end, she answered, "It's fine, I guess. Different. He's very different to Jerry. Just as thorough but different in his approach."

...

Andy was doing her level best to be discreet, but she couldn't stop her gaze from returning to the waitress every few minutes.

"Do you think Sam and her...you know...did it?" she asked distastefully.

She scoffed a little at her own question, a mix of amusement and disgust. "Who am I kidding? Of course he did! "

"Well..." Traci said carefully, "I suppose he had needs like we all do, and as I always say, the best way to get over someone is to get under them."

"Shows what you know," Andy slurred slightly, "Sam prefers to be on top!"

They both laughed raucously then.

"Enough!" Traci laughed. "That was way too much information!"

Andy stared into her glass then. "I know I shouldn't be upset, and I'm not, but..."

"So don't be upset," Traci interrupted, as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders tightly. "You weren't in the picture, and I guess he presumed you were over, so he hooked up with her. It didn't last very long anyway."

"I guess..." Andy shrugged.

"Look, Andy I'm your best friend and it's my duty to tell you the truth and put you straight. Even the good, the bad and the ugly."

"To the truth," Andy announced, and raised her glass.

"The truth," Traci repeated as they clinked their glasses together.

"Thanks for this. I really needed it," Andy admitted. "The last week has been tough on me."

"Hey that's what I'm here for."

Traci hugged her tight again. "I really missed you Andy. I'm glad you're finally back."

"Me too," Andy smiled and hugged her friend back in return.

* * *

They walked arm in arm toward Andy's apartment. It was just starting to turn dark as they left the penny, on a hunt for food and maybe a night-cap or two.

The weather wasn't particularly hot, but cool enough to wear a light jacket, and Andy breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with fresh air.

"I can smell spring," she said dreamily.

"Now I know you really are drunk," Traci teased.

They chatted about mindless, easy topics as they strolled towards a Chinese restaurant that they often ate in.

"I..." Traci said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the edge out of her voice. "Sam's going through some things," she suddenly blurted out.

Andy's brow knitted together in confusion.

"What things?" she said, sounding uncertain. They had both stopped walking.

Traci tugged her toward the nearest bus shelter and motioned for her to sit.

"I'm not sure exactly, but we've been spending more time together."

"I know with the detective training thing. What did Sam say?" Andy asked impatiently.

"No not just the detective training," Traci corrected. "We've been spending time together personally."

Traci' s eyes focussed on Andy's, surprised to find hurt and confusion there.

"Are you and Sam together? I knew something has changed between you guys."

"Oh God, no Andy! Nothing like that," Traci cried.

"Well what do you mean?" she questioned, blinking away tears.

"I don't know why he's pulled away from you the way he has," Traci confessed.

She looked down to her lap, collecting her thoughts, deciding how much she was able to tell Andy that she was totally sure of. Opting for the whole truth, she forged on, meeting Andy's eyes once more. "When you left, Sam seemed lost. Like he wasn't sure of his place in this world..."

Andy frowned a little, and glanced away, lost in the pain of those simple words. Traci nudged her playfully. "Hey," she smiled, "It's not as bad as I've probably just made it sound."

"No?" Andy was not convinced.

"Ever since Jerry died, Sam's been making a more conscious effort to spend time with me and Leo."

Andy wiped her tears, and smiled softly. Despite her misery, some things would never change and the thought of Sam looking out for her best friend and young son warmed her.

"First he started to do things around the house... putting up a shelve, painting. He fixed my car and made me exchange it for something better. He helped out whenever he could..."

Traci stared into the distance, a little emotional and cleared her throat.

"He was a big help, we were both still grieving but in our own way. I needed to keep talking about Jerry in order to get through it, but Sam needed to keep busy."

Andy held Traci's hand, and encouraged her to continue.

"I didn't really understand broody Sam, and wasn't sure how to respond to it all at first, but we started to talk. Just little things here and there. It made me realise that I didn't know him that well and I should have...he was Jerry's best friend and your boyfriend."

Andy chewed her bottom lip and tried to contain her own emotions.

"He didn't tell me directly, but with a few things he said and all the exercising I put two and two together."

Andy stared intently.

"He was miserable Andy, big time and the exercising helped. It was something he could control, as well as helping me. Plus spending time with Leo. They hang out together at least once a week."

Andy learnt during her first year as a rookie that one of Sam's main responses to a problem was to develop a sort of…tunnel vision. Compartmentalising, she had told him once.

As the patter of light rain began to fall, Andy pulled Traci to her feet.

"Come on, let's order from my place. I'm starving," she said calmly.

Andy needed time to process their conversation, and now was not the time.

...

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" Andy said, half to Traci and half to the room.

They had arrived at Andy's apartment, bellies were full, faces scrubbed clean of make-up as they lay together under several blankets.

Traci turned her back to the window and faced her friend who had started picking at a loose thread on the blanket nervously.

"Do you really want Sam?" Traci asked her. "I mean really, really want him."

Andy nodded tearfully.

It was the same question she had put to Sam about Andy several months earlier, among other things. He never really did give Traci any answers (although on reflection she never gave him the chance to speak.)

"Of course, it can't be the same," Traci said wisely. "Things have to change if you both want a fighting chance of making it work."

"I know, but I can't get close enough to him to make him understand why I left."

"Firstly, you both need to sort out how to be around one another without freaking out. Secondly you both need to admit you should have handled things differently."

Andy looked back at her friend, finding only compassion and honesty reflected in her eyes.

"Deep down I know Sam still loves you. Go talk to him, Andy," Traci continued, breaking into her thoughts. "Make him understand."

"What am I supposed to say?"

"I don't think," Traci said carefully, looking up at her and wiping a stray tear away with her thumb, "that I'm the person who can tell you that. Just tell him what's in your heart, and try to get him to do the same."

Andy blew out a frustrated breath. "Why does it feel like it's all on me to fix this?"

"Because somebody has to make the first move, and quite frankly Sam isn't up to the job," Traci replied.

Andy turned onto her stomach and groaned into the pillow.

"I think what Sam really needs right now is a friend. Someone he can talk openly to that isn't an exercise mat or punch bag."

"And that's all you got?" Andy half laughed between tears.

"That's all I got," Traci laughed softly.

* * *

Sam hadn't been answering her phone calls and he wouldn't return the messages that Andy had left him. She had even tried going by his home a couple of times, but he either wasn't there or was ignoring her.

After two weeks and a few days with no word from him, Andy sat on the steps of his porch clutching several paper carrier bags. After an hour had passed, she debated whether to leave, but his neighbour had told her that Sam had gone for a run so she decided to wait.

...

The sweat slid down the front of Sam's neck and soaked into the faded grey material of his faded academy t-shirt as he sprinted out of the park.

His feet smacked the side walk in a steady rhythm, and he found comfort that at least this was something he could control. He seemed to have no control over the rest of his life, he figured as he replayed the moments with Andy in the alleyway over and over again in his mind.

_What the hell was Traci thinking? What the hell was he thinking?_

As Sam turned the corner and entered his road he stopped suddenly when he saw Andy sitting on his steps. He tried to duck behind a tree while his mind raced frantically as how to avoid this inevitable confrontation.

But Andy had already seen him.

She stood abruptly and felt a rush of gladness at the sight of him, followed almost immediately by a sudden panic.

"Sam!" she called loudly.

He groaned painfully for a second, before attempting to turn away.

_Please don't walk away from me_ is what Andy wanted to say, but what came out instead was something unexpected.

"Don't go. Stay right there." Her voice sounded strange even to her.

She had been prepared for him to rage, but all Sam managed was a bewildered expression which masked both his joy and pain at seeing her there.

"What are you doing here, Andy?" Sam asked and walked toward her. Now he sounded pissed.

Their eyes locked, and it was that moment in the alleyway all over again. They read it in one another's eyes: the questions, the accusations, the need. Andy prayed to God that Sam could sense her feelings because there were just too many things to say. He turned away instead, and dragged a hand over his face.

"I brought us lunch," Andy said calmly,"from that Italian Deli we used to go to."

She held up the bags as if to prove her point. "I've got all of our favourites... a selection of cheeses, olives, cold meats, sun-dried tomatoes, peppers. We could catch up, if you're not to busy."

The ball was in his court now.

When Sam turned around and looked at her, he knew it was all over. All his fight was gone and something crumbled inside his chest. His last coherent thought before he stepped toward her was that it was strangely liberating to finally let go and relinquish control.

Every fact, thought and notion that he had held onto for the last several months disappeared as he unlocked the door to his home, and held it open for Andy to enter.

* * *

**One more chapter, I think...**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN- Final chapter folks and not surprisingly it is longer than the others- I guess Sam and Andy have a lot to say to one another...Enjoy!**

* * *

**Absolute Resolutions: Chapter 4.**

"I need to take a shower," Sam said without looking back at her.

"Do you me want to go?" Andy asked, her voice finally reflecting her vulnerability.

"No," he replied. "I just need to freshen up after my run."

Andy relaxed, placed her bags on the coffee table and began to undo her coat.

"I won't be long," Sam said finally glancing in her direction for the first time since they had walked through the door. "Just... just make yourself at home, okay?"

Sam tried to keep his voice level, suddenly panicked that she would be gone when he returned.

"Okay," she nodded slowly.

"Okay." Sam returned the nod and left the room.

...

Twenty minutes later, they were stood with their backs against his kitchen counter. Andy had one hand curled around a mug of coffee and the other hugging her waist. Both of Sam's hands were clutched tightly around a large mug of green tea.

_Since when did Sam drink green tea?_

The inescapable silence that had filled the room was palpable. Andy suddenly willed Sam to say something, anything, but he remained silent.

"It's a really nice house, Sam," Andy began. "Modern, spacious..."

Sam cleared his throat. As if suddenly aware of his need to join in the conversation.

"It wasn't always that way. I've spent a lot of time renovating," he explained. "Upstairs still needs work, but I'm happy with what I've done downstairs."

"Do you want to show me around?" She asked uneasily. "I'd love to see what you've done."

Sam cleared his throat again. "Sure. Sure, McNally."

...

"The front yard will look beautiful in the spring. You should start to plant some flowers now, maybe even a rose bush," Andy said excitedly.

"I'm not really green fingered," he shrugged, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"I could help," Andy offered.

Sam paused for a second as if he were considering her offer before declining.

"Well, maybe next spring then when you are more settled..." she trailed off.

_More Silence._

"Are you hungry?" he suddenly asked remembering lunch.

"I could eat."

"Good. We could have it in the living room," Sam suggested. "I'll get some plates and cutlery."

"I'll help."

"Sure."

* * *

They sat at either ends of the settee, plates perched on their laps. Andy ignored the butterflies in her stomach and bit into an olive. She kept trying to think of things to say, and she came up with many, but all seemed inappropriate. They both concentrated on their meal and an awkward silence settled over the room once more.

"This is nice," Andy smiled tightly, as she sank back into the cushions.

They used to do this all the time before she thought miserably to herself. Watch television and eat junk food in companionable silence, but now things were just awkward. Awkward and silent.

They ate silently as the television played softly in the background.

Sam pierced a piece of smoked ham with his fork. It was one of his favourites and Andy felt a small pang of satisfaction when he softly moaned in pleasure as he took a bite.

"I haven't eaten meat in a while," he explained relaxing a little. "I've been watching my diet."

Andy cracked a small smile, but did not comment and ate another olive.

It was clear they both didn't have a clue what to do or say, so they drank tea, ate and watched the news in complete silence.

They never spoke about any of it. Why they broke up in the first place, why she left, why he brought a house, why she came back, the waitress he'd been seeing and what the hell they were both doing right now.

Andy almost starts to cry at the mammoth task ahead of her, but she remained hopeful. Or maybe she was just stupid, she couldn't decide which one at that point. They needed to talk, but right now just being in the same room was a monumental achievement.

One step at a time.

Unable to take the silence any more, she cleared her throat and said, "Sam, we should probably talk."

Sam settled back in his seat, and pressed the button on the remote control. Selecting some celebrity reality television series which was more for Andy's benefit than his own, he leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. His voice became softer when he spoke again. "I know we have to talk this out. Just not now."

He was trying to avoid the conversation that would inevitably turn ugly.

...

Andy stayed long enough to finish her lunch, watch a talk show before she walked home. They said an awkward farewell as she clumsily pressed a gloved hand to his cheek. Sam watched her leave and he longed to pull her back into his arms and to hell with the consequences.

"Andy, wait!" he shouted.

She turned back a little surprised.

"Are you going to work today?"

"No, I'm off for the next few days and then I'm on nights."

"Do you wanna hang out tomorrow? Have dinner or something?"

Andy smiled brightly. "Yeah," was all she managed.

* * *

'Something' turned out to be gardening. Andy arrived a little after 10am with a tray of bulbs ready to be planted.

"I thought we could plant these," she announced.

Sam stared at her bemused, which made Andy more than a little uncomfortable. She silently cursed Traci for another one of her bright ideas. After Andy had told her what had happened, or rather lack of what had happened the day before she suggested an activity they could do together to break the ice. Once they finished laughing at totally inappropriate things, Traci declared that gardening was something safe and neutral.

"I don't really do the gardening thing, McNally."

"It's not hard, Sam. You just dig a hole and drop a bulb in."

Her face looked so hopeful that Sam relented and went to put on his boots.

...

He actually enjoyed himself. They spent a long time just preparing the ground; pulling out weeds, loose twigs and stones. They didn't say much to one another, and that was fine for both of them. They were starting to become accustomed to one another's presence again. Maybe Traci was right after all.

Across the yard, Sam smiled at her. Andy yawned tiredly at smiled back.

"Shall we take a break?" Sam asked.

Andy nodded.

…

They sat crossed leg on the floor of his front yard drinking lemonade and eating crackers. Sam chuckled softly to himself as he watched Andy sort out the bulbs into groups with great concentration. She saw him looking and blushed.

"I can't decide whether is would look nicer to group them together by colour or type of flower," she explained.

"Maybe by type of flower," Sam offered casually.

"Yeah, I think you're right," she agreed as she rearranged the bulbs again.

"I'm surprised Tanya didn't help you with the garden..." Andy concentrated on the task at hand rather than looking at Sam.

Andy promised herself that she wouldn't bring up the waitress, but she couldn't help it. If Sam was surprised he didn't show it. He ate another cracker instead.

"Tanya wasn't really the gardening type," he said casually.

"No?"

"No," he said firmly.

And she knew she should have left it there, drop the subject but it had been niggling her for some time now.

"So what type of person was she?" Andy pressed.

Sam took their empty glasses and placed them on his step. "Let's finish planting these," he said calmly. His expression still guarded.

They worked in silence again, but Andy was upset and Sam knew.

"I'm thinking of going to see Sarah this evening, maybe stay the night," he said, pushing another bulb into the soil.

Andy couldn't help but think that was a last minute decision, but kept her opinion to herself. She dusted the dirt off her hands, and stood abruptly.

"McNally," he said.

"I'm fine," Andy replied, but her voice suggested otherwise.

Sam stood too, but doesn't move and they have another long moment of silence, just staring intently. Andy knew she had no right to be upset, but she was. She doesn't care about Tanya, It's just the thought of him moving on so quickly and easily without her that burned. She didn't think she had it in her to date for a long time after Sam.

"I should go," she said and looked away.

"Fine," Sam replied. "Just call or text me to let me know you got home safely."

Andy didn't respond, and walked quickly away thankful he didn't see her tears.

She goes back to her apartment, switched off her cellphone, and ate chocolate ice-cream straight from the tub. Who was she kidding? All the lunches and gardening in the world couldn't get them to talk openly.

They don't speak to each other for two days.

* * *

He called her around 2am. She'd just finished booking two young men for disorderly conduct. Andy handed the desk officer some papers, and rooted around for her phone as it vibrated in her jacket pocket. She doesn't recognise the number.

"Hello?"

"Hey." It was Sam.

"You've changed your number?"

"I'm using Sarah's phone. I left my phone charger at home and the battery has died."

"Oh."

"I'm on my way back home, I just wanted to say hi." His voice sounded scratchy as if he has had little sleep.

She walked over to the vending machine, and pushed several coins into the slot.

"Why don't you drive home later on, get some sleep," Andy suggested as she selected a Snicker bar and ripped open the packet one-handed with her teeth.

She waits for him to say why he was calling so early in the morning, but his breathing was so soft and soothing that she simply listened while she chewed a mouthful of chocolate.

"She was fun to be with," Sam said after some time.

They both knew who he was talking about and as Andy took another bite of chocolate she decided not to comment.

"It wasn't about the sex," he said carefully. "It was about feeling something other than unhappiness and not being alone."

She closed her eyes to absorb that last statement.

"Andy."

"Yep."

"Tanya was a great girl, but at the end of the day she was a distraction from who I really wanted."

Andy stopped chewing as all these conflicting feelings whirl around her chest, which made her eyes moist.

"I have to go, Sam," she replied as if she hadn't heard anything Sam had confessed and disconnected the call.

Andy pressed her fingers against her eyelids and goes back to the booking desk to finish up her paperwork.

* * *

Her shift had finished and she walked toward Sam house. She wasn't surprised to see him sitting outside on his step so early in the morning. Sam didn't seem surprised to see her either.

"I couldn't sleep," he told her, and immediately felt silly for it.

"Me either," Andy said, "Working nights always wires me up."

"I remember," and his smile was a little wider for a moment before it faded.

She sat down on the step beside him, propped her elbows on her knees, and stared out into the street like he'd been when she'd found him. She felt him looking at her, but she didn't return his stare, because she wasn't yet sure what she wanted to say. She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing there.

He returned a minute later and handed her a mug of hot tea.

"Thanks," she yawned.

Finally, he turned away, and they sat like that in silence for a long moment. She blew her tea several times before taking a sip.

"Tell me I did the right thing, Sam" she said without looking at him. "Tell me you understand why I left."

"I can't tell you that, Andy." His tone was bitter. He sighed, "but I guess I didn't do a good job of that myself either."

Elbows almost touching, they stared out ahead and breathed in the cool, early fresh air.

She wanted to ask about Sarah, his detective exams and everything else in between but she doesn't, because she doesn't need to know that all of that yet. That can wait. What she needs to know if they can try again.

"Can we talk about us? Like really talk? Just lay it all out there," she said.

And that was what Sam was dreading, an ugly onslaught of words, accusations and ultimately the truth. He didn't think Andy was ready for what he was feeling. He didn't think he was ready for what he was feeling.

"You want me to tell you what's on my mind? That's not really how I do things," he said dryly.

Andy closed her eyes, "Alright, it isn't, but it's not..." she takes another pause and considered what she is about to say next, but Sam interrupted.

"After all these months you just want us to get it all out there like nothing has happened. I could barely do that when we were together," Sam readily admitted. "It's even harder for me now when I don't really trust you."

He didn't mean to cause the hurt expression that passed over her face at his words, but there it was.

Andy acknowledged his words graciously, after her initial shock. Sam was right, and that was the one thing she had overlooked. Sam was never that big on talking, and that was when he trusted her.

"I..." she doesn't know how to respond, so made a suggestion instead. "How about we just talk about what we've been up too since we've been apart?" she gestured for him to start.

"Work is fine," he goes through the motions. "I'm doing the detective thing. Jerry always told me that..." He stopped his thoughts.

"What did Jerry tell you?" She pressed gently, finally seeing an opening for something deeper.

"Jerry told me a lot of things," Sam shrugged indifferently.

It started to rain then, a gentle drizzling that blew onto them. It was pleasant enough to still sit in, so they remained where they were.

"Anyway, so I brought this house, spent most of my spare time fixing it up. Been to St Catherines a few times, spending time with Sarah..."

Andy sighed heavily through her nose, and placed her mug to the side of her.

"Isn't that what you wanted to know?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm. There was no anger in his voice, but there's something she can't place her finger on.

"Sure," she lied. "But I'd really like you to just talk to me, no holds barred. I can take it; just tell me what you're thinking. Tell me what's in your heart."

Fact: They say forgiveness is the key to healing, but the same can be said for speaking your mind freely.

Sam shifted and straightened his body. He could feel his frustration and anger riding to the surface as he placed the mug he was gripping onto the step.

"Bullshit." His eyes found hers. "That's my answer your question about whether you had done the right thing."

Andy looked surprised by his outburst.

"What? Do you want me to say you did the right thing by leaving the way you did? We both know what the answer is to that." He was breathing heavily now and Andy held her own breath in nervous anticipation as to what he would say next.

"You left to punish me. You left because a self-help book told you; a book given to you by your mother who we all know is the best person to give relationship advice. Just be honest McNally and admit it! How did walking away in the middle of the night help our relationship?"

"Probably just as much help as you dumping me with no proper explanation," she snapped in retaliation.

His gaze hardened at her words and she felt herself getting angrier. She was angry at everything that had been forced on them, and angry most of all at him, because he could have prevented all of this.

"You started this Sam! You, not me." She poked him hard in the chest to emphasise her point. "You broke things off with me! Don't you dare blame me!"

"That's right this it's all my fault, Andy McNally is never wrong!" He stood up then towering above her. "And before you say I walked away first, at least I let you know. As fucked up as it was, and I acknowledge it was fucked up, I told you…" He trailed off and sighed, pressing his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm down.

Andy looked as if she were about the cry, but she didn't. Her hands shook a little and she shoved them into her pockets. Sam wanted to take her hand then and place a kiss on her wrist, just as much as he wanted to grab her and shake her hard for turning him into an emotional wreck. But instead he folds his arms against his chest, leans against the porch frame and slowly expelled some air.

Andy kept pressing for the truth, and he needed to say it. The one thing that his mind couldn't get over in all the mess.

"You know what really pissed me off? That you couldn't even be bothered to tell me you were leaving. I gave you the heads up when I knew I was going undercover." He growled this softly, and turned away again, eyes on the steps in front of him. "It hurt."

Andy needed to say something too, the one thing her mind couldn't get over either.

"You promised you would never walk away from us," she said. "And that really hurt too."

That final statement caught Sam off guard, and he cursed herself inwardly when he had no reply. It was true, he had promised.

"We sat on the back of your truck eating apple flips. My mom had just come back into my life, and you promised that you wouldn't give up on us without a fight if things started to go wrong. Where was the fight Sam when you broke things off with me, huh?"

Sam pushed away from where he was standing then and walked into the house. Andy followed not quite ready to let the matter drop.

"I guess it doesn't matter now anyway, it's all in the past right? I get it, we're over."

They were both now in the living room, Sam's arm braced on the back of the settee. He wasn't looking at her as he tightened his jaw.

"Andy...I didn't fight for us, because I had no fight left in me. My best friend had died and somehow I felt responsible." He stopped again unable to say much more without breaking down.

He'd been quiet for too long, and despite her anger she went to him anyway. Andy wrapped a hand around him, and placed her head on his shoulder. She felt him shake and take several unsteady breaths. She squeezed his arm reassuringly. "It's all right. I know it's hard for you to talk about Jerry."

They stood like that for a while and only when it seemed he had calmed himself down did she finally speak.

"I took the undercover assignment because I felt there nothing going well in my life. My mom and I...we were talking but we were so far away from having a close relationship, and I wasn't really sure I even wanted one. I was protecting myself from that and my feelings towards you. I also wanted to prove myself after your last undercover fiasco. I thought you would get that."

Sam squeezed her hand back and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry Sam," Andy whispered. "I'm sorry I never told you I was going under but it all happened so quick."

"I am sorry too, Andy. I shouldn't have treated what we had so casually. I never saw what we had as casual even if it looked that way. I guess I'm just not very good at showing my true feelings."

He walked to the patio doors leading to his back garden and stared outside through the glass. It was still raining, soft gentle rain that in any other circumstance would be soothing and therapeutic.

Andy just stood there for a minute, watching him. She wasn't over-thinking or analysing as she walked over to the window, standing behind him, watching him watch the rain. Sam knew she was close, he could smell her shampoo and body lotion. He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind, appreciating her presence instead.

"It hurt the first time you left too," he said softly, surprising her with the intensity of his gaze. He had never mentioned that to her before. The timing of her leaving along with their suspension left him angry too. "Because I missed you…both times," he clarified. He doesn't sound angry when he spoke those words, just honest.

"I missed you too," Andy told him, sharing another long look. "I still do," she added, before looking away.

"I worried about you when you were away. What if something happened to you undercover? What if you got hurt, or something worse? I wouldn't have had the chance to say goodbye."

"Sam..." Andy began.

He held his hand up, obviously needing to continue.

"The only consolation I have about Jerry was that I had a chance to talk to him, even made a joke before he..."

Sam clammed up again and Andy desperately wanted to make him whole again... and herself too. She'd spent too many nights as a young girl waiting for her mother to return (which she eventually realised wasn't going to happen any time soon), too many nights waiting for her dad to come home from the pub and too many nights waiting for the undercover assignment to end so she could be here with Sam, like this. And he was there, close enough to touch but she didn't have the right. She felt as if they were right back at the start of the maze when she was about to marry Luke and Sam was angry and pissed at her decision.

Andy suddenly realised then how tired she was. Her eyes slipped shut for a few moments, and already she felt drained.

"Are you gonna leave again?" Sam asked, taking one of her hands in his.

"Not without telling you first," Andy replied squeezing it gently. "I promise."

Later they would say it was the other who initiated the hand holding. She can't tell who took whose hand first, but it seemed like it was the start of the beginning for them.

Sam turned her to face him, and they both seem to share equal parts exhaustion.

"Sam," Andy said, and he finally leaned in.

When Sam kissed her, it was just the corner of her brow at first, quiet, tentative, and she closed her eyes and felt like weeping. He cupped her jaw in one hand, his thumb wiped away her smudged mascara and her eyes fluttered closed. He pressed a kiss against the centre of her right eyelid, before kissing the left.

She remained silent, and so does he, as his arms tighten around her and draw her toward him. In the warmth of the cocoon they've made she listened as the rain starts to tap noisily on the window pane and she never wants to leave. Sam doesn't want her to leave either and he thinks maybe this is enough for now.

He slid his fingers onto the back of her damp neck and pulled her head back to look at him in the dim light of the room.

"I'm sorry, Andy. I'm sorry for hurting you."

"I know," she said. She laid her head against his chest again.

It's silent again, and maybe their connection isn't so damaged after all, as she knows he's in deep thought. She can't tell what he's thinking, and he seemed so solemn and far away. She runs a hand down his back. Finally, he turned his head toward her and smiled apologetically.

"I'm just thinking how we never get to this point again," he rumbled.

"They say you're only allowed one break up," she whispered as she breathed in his scent. "We've had a couple already."

"They also say third times a charm," he smiled.

Andy smiled back. "I think I like that one better."

...

They end up talking for several more hours, over freshly brewed coffee and hot buttered toast until Andy called a taxi to take her home. Sam offered to drive her, but he looked tired too, so she told him to rest. She's working another night shift later and she really needs to sleep in her bed.

Sam crashed on the settee and slept better than he had in a long while. His thoughts were more positive.

* * *

Andy called him during a break the following evening.

"Hey," she whispered breathlessly. "I know it's late."

"Hey," he said back snuggling into his mattress. "How's the night shift treating you?"

"Uneventful," she said walking into one of the empty interrogation rooms for some privacy.

He could hear her moving around as he pulled his blanket closer.

"I wanted to see you yesterday, but my dad and I had our weekly lunch date," she explained.

Andy shifted her weight to her other foot, her heart beating faster than normal at being able to talk to him so freely.

"I remember McNally," he said. "Besides I don't want you to get sick of me just yet."

Andy laughed.

"Sam," she said tentatively, "I wish I was with you right now," she whispered shyly.

"Me too, sweetheart."

"I never told you that I learnt to cook." She was beaming at the phone. "When I was undercover, I worked in a kitchen of a diner."

"Well that I would like to see. So you don't burn water any more?" She could hear the smile, and the affection, in his voice.

"Funny" she said and laughed again. "But you could judge my cooking skills if you want. I make a mean breakfast."

"You want to make breakfast for me?" Sam teased, but it felt like it carried many different meanings of their many months apart.

"Yeah. I do. I really do if you'd let me," she sighed and shrugged at the same time still nervous of whatever they had become. "I can come around after my shift ends, I just need to go to the supermarket first."

Sam rolled onto his side and closed his eyes again. "Well that depends, McNally. What would you make?"

"French Toast, Eggs Benedict, Dutch Bacon, Sautéed Mushrooms."

"Very international," Sam commented.

"Well, I'm a woman of the world," she said playfully.

"And Coffee?"

"Colombian of course."

"Of course," Sam chuckled.

They're silent again, just listening to one another breath. But it was not awkward, it was comfortable.

"McNally?" he said after some time.

"Hmm..."

"I don't really like mushrooms, could you do tomatoes instead?"

"I can do that, or even a breakfast salad..."

"I can squeeze some fresh orange juice," Sam added.

"Sound like a date!"

Sam could hear voices in the background, and Andy swore softly under her breath.

"Sam I gotta go," she said quickly. "Sounds like the Sergeant is looking for me."

"Okay McNally, see you in the morning."

"Night Sam."

"Night."

Sam drifted off to sleep almost immediately, with a dreamy smile on his face. He looked forward to the chance to spend some quality time with Andy, he hoped they were heading in the right direction to make things work. He was also looking forward to a cooked breakfast that didn't consist of scrambled egg whites or vegetable smoothies.

After all it was a well known fact that breakfast was the most important meal of the day.

* * *

**Happy Easter!**


End file.
